


Something Wicked This Way Comes.

by dimplesmcflirt



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Banshee!Clarke, F/M, Magical Creatures AU, Shifter!Bellamy, Shifter!Octavia, Supernatural AU - Freeform, Warlock!Finn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 00:06:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5110403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dimplesmcflirt/pseuds/dimplesmcflirt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For any other kid growing up surrounded by books filled with enchantments, all sorts of ingredients to complete spells and funny looking brews might have been weird, but Bellamy Blake had no problem growing up weird.</p><p>-</p><p>It's soon after, during one night when the grief is too much, and he's waken up from a nightmare that it happens the first time, he's outside looking at the moon, wishing he could anyone else, anything else, and he feels himself shrinking, his limbs shifting until he's on all fours. His senses are sharper, he can see much further and clearer, his hearing is completely different as well, and he feels light on his feet, or should he say paws?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shifter.

**Author's Note:**

> It feels like forever since I've done this (whispers: probably because it has been).
> 
> Anyway, Halloween is my favorite holiday and I wanted to come up with something special for it, and I think I did. The first two chapters don't really earn the rating, since they're pretty much world building, but I promise the last one will.

For any other kid growing up surrounded by books filled with enchantments, all sorts of ingredients to complete spells and funny looking brews might have been weird, but Bellamy Blake had no problem growing up weird. Even if the local kids were weary of him and he didn't have any friends, he'd much rather spend his time watching his mother work while peering over her books.

It's not like he wouldn't be a social outcast anyway, he was home schooled, and they didn't exactly have a nuclear family. His mother having left her hometown to raise him somewhere else after his father skipped out on them, she'd picked up and moved them to the town on the outskirts of Mt. Weather because of the magical properties surrounding the area. Though most people opted for houses as far away from the mountain, the urban legends surrounding the place - implying it brought on death and disease - enough to keep those who didn't know any better away, Aurora Blake knew that a place with that much energy to tap into was not to be taken lightly. So they moved into this beat down bungalow impossibly close to it, and made it their home.  

Kids whispered under their breaths, leered and snickered whenever he walked by, but it never got to Bellamy. What did these kids have to look forward to in life anyway? They'd all end up either being copped up in a office, working nine to five, or pulling absurdly long shifts at hospitals in an effort to save people's lives that he could probably do a lot more for, if people weren't so mistrusting of magic. But then again, none of these kids had a witch for a mother, Bellamy always figured he was just lucky that way.

He's nine when his mother tells him she's pregnant again, and Bellamy is a bit taken aback at first, he's young but he knows things, and if you had asked him he would never have told you he thought this was possible. Once he accepts the news as a fact, he moves on to being resentful. He doesn't want to share his mother, he only has her, and he's never had to share her before, if she's busy with a new baby she won't have time to teach him as many new spells, and he'll have to start practicing on his own, what if he's not ready yet?

But then Octavia is born, Aurora lets him name her, and the house is flooded with new found energy, new life does that to a place that's wired to pick up on forces like that and harvesting them, is what she tells him. The flowers grow stronger, their aroma invading every room, by consequence his mother’s magic does as well. Animals start showing up on their grounds, there's a grey falcon in particular that perches itself on his mother's window, near the crib nearly every night, he often catches his mother talking to the bird as if it understands her, and it's always listening raptly.

His mother relies on him more, which means she actually spends more time teaching him, and lets him take the lead with some costumers that come in looking for them. Often teenagers with minor requests of bottled affection, concentration spells and good luck charms, but often they get the desperate family member that's come to them after doctor's have delivered them the bad news. Sometimes there's still something to be done, but most times it's too late by then and beyond the forces of nature, so the best they can offer is some relief from the pain during the passing.

Bellamy still gets angry at those times, by the time he's seventeen he's already missed so many people he could have saved if they had just came to them sooner, it makes him livid. Until one of those people ends up being his mother, when he finally picks up on it she has had to have known for months, has have to be treating herself, the signs are all there, but she hasn't told him, not directly. He should have suspected something when suddenly she was settling down for bed earlier than him and Octavia, often waking up later, after he came back from taking his sister to school.

Maybe that was it, he was too distracted by his sister, completely taken by her, he'd always been, ever since she was born it was like his whole life had shifted, he had a purpose then, someone to protect. He convinced their mother to let her go to school when she was six, wanting a better life for her, different, the chance to make friends, he'd take her and bring her back home every day, and she told him about everything, helped her with her homework, made her dinner, put her to bed. Aurora never asked such of him, it was just something that he naturally did, gravitated towards without question, it's by paying that much attention to his sister that he misses his mother's illness, until the day he's the one that has nothing he can do but offer her some relief from the pain.

It's soon after, during one night when the grief is too much, and he's waken up from a nightmare that it happens the first time, he's outside looking at the moon, wishing he could anyone else, anything else, and he feels himself shrinking, his limbs shifting until he's on all fours. His senses are sharper, he can see much further and clearer, his hearing is completely different as well, and he feels light on his feet, or should he say paws? He lifts one to see and looks at the soft pink tissue surrounded by black fur, he blinks a couple of times, and tries moving. He's slick and agile, moving is so swift it's almost disconcerting, he jumps onto his bedroom window and stays there for a little while, but he stumbles forward and he's back in his own body, heart hammering inside his chest.

He hasn't had the heart to touch his mother's grimoire up until then, he's never looked much at it before, focusing on her other spell books because it feels too private of a thing, she never actively offered, and he couldn't well just pick it up and take it to his room on his own. Though technically it was his now, it still felt heavy in his hands as he plucked it open, but he never got to do much searching, as a letter addressed to him fell to the ground. In it his mother explained everything, how he and his sister could probably grow to master shape shifting because their fathers had been shifters.

Octavia's the grey falcon that often visited when she had been born, his father had been a raven, apparently his mother had a thing for birds, that also explained why they always left, once you knew that the animal a shifter takes form of is often a true representation of their soul. It never crosses his mind that that isn't true, seeing he turns into a black cat. Bellamy Blake, social outcast, son of a witch, touchy and defensive at first, incredibly independent but fiercely protective of his own, cursed, of course he would be.

There's not much to read up on in his mother's things, she was a well versed witch but she never spent that much time with many a magical creature, so he has to hone his abilities as best as he can on his own, while he's caring for Octavia. They've had a ceremony after their mother passed, building her death bed as it need be, and burning it at the end. It was no surprise that no one came looking for them asking questions, as secluded as they lived, no one should. He's taken to staying in town after accompanying her to school, so he can head into the town's small library, they don't have computers or internet access at home, so he needs to make the best of it.

It's hard to find forums where people are actually taking things seriously, mostly because the older generation of magic wielders are very weary of technology in general, as it tends to interfere with magical efficiency, but there's a new wave of young talent that has been adapting spells and taking advantage of abilities in a less than traditional manner. It's millennials putting magic to good use at its best, and he's both impressed and a little scandalized at the thought of how many memory tweaking spells or potions these kids must be using.

He reads through some threads, learns more about his kind, some of the wolf variety, none that are forced to shift exclusively during the full moon. He learns about creatures that could be called vampires and feed off life energy - but don't need to, and rarely leave their victims dead - much less have any issues with photographs or mirrors. Bellamy finds out about fairies that can bring flowers and small creatures back to life and are the size of hummingbirds, but can make themselves appear human for short periods of times. Ghosts that have unfinished business and wreak havoc trying to find their way to the other side, only needing someone to guide them - he can see them when he's shifted, and found that part of his nature as a feline shifter makes him able to help them cross, it helps start giving him some peace of mind.

About two years after his mother has passed Octavia's dad comes visit, in human form, his sister is ten now, and a complete beacon of light in his life, so he's immediately defensive about it when he opens the door and recognizes his sister's steel-like gaze. It turns out there isn't much to be worried about, the man has heard about Aurora, and he just came to make sure they were cared for, to offer help, Octavia has to hold Bellamy back from snapping that they don't need any help, convinces him to hear the man out. His name is Warrick and he's a part of an old, traditional family of shifters that mostly take form of birds of prey.

They make nests but they never stay too long, hearing a calling to explore the world, but he has a house a couple of towns over, and he wants to invite them to stay, care for it, as they will. It's vacant most of the time since he rarely comes to this part of the country, or the world for the matter at this point in his life. He'll enroll Octavia in school, and he can probably get Bellamy into the local university if he wants to take some classes.

He tells himself he does it for Octavia, but honestly, he's excited about the opportunity of moving up into a bigger town, having access to a bigger library, maybe meeting more magic wielding people his age, moving on for good. If it happens to offer Octavia to stretch out her limbs and grow into the young woman he knows she can be, all the better. He's started trying to teach her some spells, but it's all very technical, small details and enchantments, and Octavia's spirit is a bit too agitated for it. She's a bouncing ball of energy and it's no surprise that soon after they've moved she's so excited she turns herself into a bright yellow canary and flies off, she's giggling by the time she shifts back.

Octavia takes to shifting much easier than he does, she masters going from one form to the other so easily it makes him feel both immensely proud and a little inadequate. It has only been weeks and his pre-pubescent sister shifts between a tiny little bird and a twelve-year-old girl at the blink of an eye as if she's been doing it her whole life, and he has to laugh really. Much like he's connected to ghosts in a way, Octavia is connected to fairies, and when she's shifted she can not only see but communicate and help protect them, especially if it means nearly poking teenage boys' eyeballs out.

He hasn't had much to do ever since they got to Arcadia, but he's been attending some classes and spending a lot of his time in the library. He strolls around every other night, but eventually, every time he does he finds himself pulled into some sort of trance and he only snaps out of it once he's standing in front of a couple of tall iron gates at the entrance of one of the town's most prominent family's property. The Griffin estate, it's like someone is calling to him, beautifully and anguished at the same time, and he can't put a finger as to why just yet.

That is until one night the cry is stronger, sharper, the pain actively pulsing through him, dragging him back to consciousness in a breath that's clawing it's way up his chest burning his insides until he's down on all fours and rushing over to the house. He knows someone's waiting for him before he actually sees the man, his yellow eyes looking up at the frail looking human who's somewhere between alive and dead, probably not knowing. At least that's what Bellamy thinks, until the man looks down at him and smiles tiredly, but fondly.

"You're here to take me away, aren't you little fellow?" He sighs and Bellamy cocks his head to the side, since he's never had anyone react so casually to his particular version of reaping. "It's my daughter, I'm afraid to leave her, I haven't really talked to her about her abilities and I really don't trust my wife too." He actually laughs then, and Bellamy has definitely never seen that before. "Have you been hearing her call? She's quite strong, my mother was too." And then there's the smile again, and Bellamy isn't sure what to do, because it's never been like this before.

"This is going to absolutely kill her." The man looks up and starts walking then, and Bellamy falls to stride beside him, both of them heading towards the blinking light at the end of the street that's calling to the new soul. "I need you to promise me something my small friend..." They're just a few feet from the corner when the man crouches down in front of him, and he sits back on his legs, eyes wide in attention. "I need you to go in, pick up my wrist watch and set it down by her." Bellamy nods quickly and the man gets back up to his feet. "And if it's not too much trouble, keep an eye on her, would you?"

He watches the man reach out and touch the light then, until he slowly but surely disappears. It takes him a while to shake off his surprise at this one of a kind encounter, and slips between two bars at the big iron gate, staring up at property unfolding before him. There's lots of land, and a house that's bigger than any other he's seen in real life, it's old too, probably built in the 1800's though he's sure it's been remodeled, but that's none of his business, so he sprints through the front gardens, and climbs his way up to the second floor through the front porch.

There's a window open and he recognizes the man he's just helped cross to the other side on the bed, his hand hanging from it almost as if just to make his job easy, as it takes less then a minute for the watch to fall from his wrist in a small thud. The woman besides him stirs but doesn't wake as Bellamy picks up the watch and makes his way out of the room. If he had to go from door to door, even with his agility it'd take him about five minutes to find the right room, but he didn't, her energy was practically screaming at him, clawing it's way through the door until he was there, pushing it open.

This was it, she was what was calling him to the house every time he shifted, her cries filled with pain, sorrow and an added tone of relief now he hadn't heard before. He jumps quietly onto the bed and sets down the watch, and he has to stop for a minute to look at this girl, just look at her.

There's nothing particularly special about her, he thinks at first but he has to stop himself, because even for a normal girl, he has to realize how beautiful she is. How it's obvious that she finally looks peaceful but how it looks like it's not been like that for a long while at the same time, she breathes slow and comfortably, and he's not sure where her cries are coming from, or if he'd even be able to hear them if he weren't shifted.

Her blonde hair falls down her back and frames some of her face, and she has a spot just over her lips, and when he moves his eyes further up he can see hers fluttering, and he barely has time to process a flash of blue before he darts out. He turns back one last time out of curiosity, watching her assessing the watch as he jumps off her window, climbs down through the front porch and sprints out of the property, thinking of the man, the watch, and the Griffin girl he was asked to keep an eye on.


	2. Banshee.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s been over a year and Clarke still wakes up from the dream she’s had at least once a week since her father passed. She can’t tell how long she falls for, too long, until she finally hits her bed, to find a black cat staring at her from her windowsill, bright yellow eyes trained on her, and her father’s watch on her bed. The watch now rested on her wrist, and it has since that day, she never took it off, she hadn’t even for the charity gala her mother threw at the one year anniversary of his death, an event to raise awareness and funds for research into the disease that had killed him.
> 
> -
> 
> This time it’s evening, she’s alone in her room, she’s got a pencil in her hands but she’s paying very little attention to what she’s drawing as if her hand is moving of its own accord, and when she’s done she lets out a blood piercing scream. When she looks down she sees she’s drawn a picture of Wells, and her cat is there, watching her from the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming in a little late, because I spent my Halloween with some nice wine, a good friend, Henry Cavill and Armie Hammer.

It’s been over a year and Clarke still wakes up from the dream she’s had at least once a week since her father passed. She can’t tell how long she falls for, too long, until she finally hits her bed, to find a black cat staring at her from her windowsill, bright yellow eyes trained on her, and her father’s watch on her bed. The watch now rested on her wrist, and it has since that day, she never took it off, she hadn’t even for the charity gala her mother threw at the one year anniversary of his death, an event to raise awareness and funds for research into the disease that had killed him.

She’s thrown herself into her senior year at school, wishing she hadn’t been such an over-achiever early on because there wasn’t much for her to do, but she could still offer to tutor kids and work to better her SAT scores, and perfect her college applications, anything so she could avoid burying herself in grief.

Clarke decides to stay in town, even though her mother is torn about it, the local university is prestigious enough, but she got into better schools and they would have no problem paying for tuition. But this was her father’s alma matter, and the thought of not being able to come home on weekends and spend time in the atelier he had set up herself made her feel sick to her stomach. She moves into the dorms though, she’s been assigned a double she’s sharing with a sophomore, Raven, who’s crazy smart and has blue prints all over her desk along with mechanical trinkets. Wells helps her move in, before he leaves the state.

She’s never not had Wells around, and it’s weird at first, not having someone sitting by her side in every class, or already knowing who she’s going to partner up with for a project, or just to listen to her the way he listened to her, really, a support system. That is, until the cat shows up. It’s not that she wants to compare Wells to a cat, because Wells is definitely not a cat at all, but there he is, her cat, and it is her cat, the cat she’s been dreaming about since her father died.

The first time she sees it he’s just strolling across her dorm hall and she’s embarrassed at how openly she reacts at a black cat roaming the college grounds, because really, it’s just a cat. But then it happens again, and once more, one time when she’s leaving the library and the other on her way to the mess hall. It’s gotten her so aware of things that when a boy makes a point to sit beside her during one of her first classes in the new semester it startles her a bit.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” His deep voice floats over to her, and she turns to him properly, his skin is tanned and he’s got a mop of thick, dark curls shadowing his eyes in a way she can’t make them out entirely, until he leans back, running his fingers through his hair, before he offers the hand to her. “I’m Bellamy.” Clarke isn’t sure where the warmth comes from as she shakes his hand, if it’s deep brown eyes, the still impossible rich tone of his voice, or the skin on skin contact. But she’s shaken hands before and it’s never quite been like this.

“You didn’t scare me.” She starts as she pulls back her hand, and takes a deep breath, still studying the stranger sitting next to her. “You’re just light on your feet, I didn’t hear you coming.” Clarke finally tears her eyes from him, and looks down at her notebook. “I’m Clarke.”

“I get that a lot.” He smiles, as if he’s taking part of an inside joke, and it makes her frown. “Nice to meet you Clarke.” They don’t have much time to talk after that because their teacher arrives, but there’s still something about him, that she can’t quite put a finger on.

It happens weeks later, but it’s not the same as it was with her father, not that she can remember things bit by bit, but with her father, she started feeling strange as soon as he got sick, she knew by the time her parents told her, wasn’t sure how, but she did. Like every time she went to sleep she couldn’t quite manage to rest, but she wasn’t awake either, like she was trapped in this limbo where she was falling, and she kept calling out for help but no one listened to her. She remembers when it ended, because it was on the day her father died, and that’s why she dreams about it, though she doesn’t scream anymore.

This time it’s evening, she’s alone in her room, she’s got a pencil in her hands but she’s paying very little attention to what she’s drawing as if her hand is moving of its own accord, and when she’s done she lets out a blood piercing scream. When she looks down she sees she’s drawn a picture of Wells, and her cat is there, watching her from the window.

She doesn’t know what happened at first, can’t, but still, in a way it’s like he does, and so does the cat. He steps into the room, watching her and it’s so impossibly human in it’s attitude that Clarke lets it, she makes herself a mug of tea, and makes her way over to the bed, the cat nestles itself close to her. Clarke falls asleep after her tea, and when she wakes up her phone is ringing by her side, though she has no idea how it got there, until the cat pushes it closer to her.

“Of course.” She whispers, rubbing her eyes as she picks it up. The following phone call is only the hardest she’s ever been through because her father was home when he passed away and so was she, so no one ever gave her the news of someone’s death over the phone.

That is, until she’s on the phone with Thelonious, who’s telling her Wells was in an accident, and the doctor’s hadn’t managed to save him. She screams again, and cries, and throws her pillows away, before she curls into herself on the bed, her cat finding a way to squeeze close to her and stays with her through the night, but when she wakes up the next morning it’s gone.  

Clarke moves back home after that, at least for the semester, mostly because her room just reminds her of everything. Raven’s the one that tells her the cat has been around, just once, because soon enough, somehow he’s back at her window, and as much as she always wondered, now she knows for sure it was there the night his father passed.

“There’s something wrong with me, isn’t there?” Clarke asks the cat as it slips down from her window, and makes itself comfortable on her lap. “That’s why you’re always around… You know it.” She starts stroking his fur, and the cat purrs at her touch, nuzzling into her hand.

When she wakes up the next day the cat is gone again, but there’s a book beside her on the bed marked on a page. It’s some sort of catalogue, of supernatural creatures, she remembers some from stories her dad used to tell her as a kid, and others from popular culture, but she doesn’t know all that much from the creature that’s been brought to her attention, the banshee. She thinks about asking her mother, but she’s about as sure she won’t get a straight answer out of her as she is the earth isn’t the center of the universe.

If she spends the next days basically cooped up in her father’s study no one can blame her, the cat comes around often enough, and she starts wondering about it as well, is it someone’s familiar? Or a shifter? Or if cats just are magically inclined animals. She figures it being a shifter is what makes the most sense, how else would he know about the watch? Had known to get her phone when Thelonious had called? Had known what she was and set down the book for her to find out?

Clarke wonders if it’s Raven, considering she’s never seen Raven and the cat at the same place at the same time, but when she’s spending more time obsessing over the cat than finding out more about herself, she decides it’s time to give it a break.

She then focuses her efforts on pulling up every book she knows has information on banshees and how they manifest themselves. She understands her cry now, or at least has a better understanding of it, it’s not something she can control or avoid, but she may be able to tune into it more precisely, though she doesn’t know if that means she can avoid what her powers are responding to. Clarke hopes she can, because if it’s a hopeless cause she’s not sure she was wrong in thinking she was cursed.

Her mother seems a little suspicious when Clarke mentions making a trip to the United Kingdom, but it is easy enough to throw her off her trail, it’s just a trip to London, she’ll be back before classes start. Not that Clarke plans to spend that much of her time in London anyway, it’s much easier to immerse herself in folklore up in Scotland or Ireland. She goes up to the highlands and finds a local town that still has talks of witches and healers and it doesn’t take much at all for someone to single her out.

It’s a boy, he’s American too, his name is Finn, and he’s been in Scotland for a semester abroad, his reason to come not much different from hers. His grandmother had been a witch, and she’d passed recently and left him her grimoire. Having grown up in the town close to Edinburgh they found themselves in now, she had left complete detailed descriptions of ritualistic ceremonies with illustrations to pair, and Finn had found most of the places she had mapped out.

Her timing seems to be perfect too, because with the summer solstice happening that night Finn’s sure they might be able to sit into a gathering and watch. He tells her about his hotel, and she settles herself a room there as well, she shows him some of the books she’s brought along with her, and he tells her about old folk legends his nan had told him about growing up.

When the sun sets they make their way over to a rock formation not too far off town, and when a group of women in light white linen dresses come over, Finn makes his way to them and explains their presence. He mentions his grandmother, and one of the older women softens, reaches for his face, and permits them to stay and watch, so long as they don’t disturb the ceremony.

After they dance, and sing around a fire they build in the middle of the rock formation, throwing herbs and spices into the fire that sometimes create explosions of color, they gather around and settle in to eat and drink, cheeses, fruits, nuts, slabs of meet and wine. They tell stories, and Clarke smiles as she sits next to a young girl named Charlotte who’s taking part of the summer solstice ritual for the first time.

The elders talk about how it’s easier in small towns like this to keep the traditions, how people with magical abilities just seek out each other, knowingly in places like this still, and there’s not much prejudice, at best some skepticism.  It gets harder once they’ve migrated, and they question Finn about his own magical inclinations.

She hears him talk about minor spells then, he’s particularly good at channeling his energy and making things levitate, he reaches for a couple twigs and branches, flowers and leaves around and he twirls them in the air. He twists and turns it until they’re woven together in this simple but prettily designed crown that he floats over to her, before he delicately settles it down on her head.

Clarke sleeps with him that night back at the hotel, and it’s different from any sex she’s ever had, it’s like their energies merge and it’s a completely different experience, the candles he’s lit across the room float in their little globes, and unlike when she’s predicting death both of them can hear her body singing faintly as it happens.

Finn leaves a week after that, when she’s on her way to Ireland, having already bought his ticket, and she’s grateful for meeting him, but she’s also excited to make her way over to Ireland, and learn more. And that she does, as she finds the bar the witches had suggested her seek out, the owner herself, Anya, is a banshee. Though she grew up between Nepal and China, and hearing legends that have little to do with the ones they tell about banshees in Ireland.

She tells her about the Mogwai, sometimes portrayed as demons, sometimes as spirits that bring on death and desire. They tend to trick people into their own doom, and inflict harm on those who have wronged them, but they can be appeased by displays of fortune.  

But still, she tells Clarke about the Irish myths, of how they’re fey kind, fairies, even if dark ones. Originally it’s said these weeping creatures were each designated to one of five of Irelands biggest families, and if a member of these families died away from home, their cries were the first indication of that. When close, a banshee’s cry is supposed to signify how many days one is supposed to live, one cry for each passing living day, and if she only lets out the one, then death is sure to be close.

“Here, they say you’re blessed with the gift of song. You can be touched by one of two spirits, a spirit of light that gives you the gift of sight, and a spirit of darkness, that gives you the cry of death, but I don’t think it’s that simple, I don’t believe it’s one of the other. It’s just that the cry of death is a wretched thing, powerful and strong, it jolts you and breaks you, if you let it. You have to open up your energy, channel it, and find the light, harness it, make it strive, make it glow.”

“How do I do that, how do I find the light?” Clarke begs her, desperate.

“How else would you think dearie? Love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little insight into Clarke's powers, what did you guys think?


	3. Darkness.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s Finn.” She says sadly, the minute he steps into the room, as if she knows he’s there, and Bellamy figures she does, so he pads quietly over. “I don’t know how, or where, but…” He watches her set down her paintbrush and settle herself down onto a chair nearby. He jumps up onto the table next to her, making sure to not knock anything down, and she looks straight at him then. “You’re someone… I know that now, my watch, my phone, seeing you around campus… Who are you?” 
> 
> He ponders for a minute before he jumps back down to the floor, and finally shifts back, taking note of her expression. She’s genuinely confused at first, how he’d expect, she frowns, then crosses her arms, arches an eyebrow and leans back against the table he had just been settled on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, motherfuckers, bet you'd seen the last of me? Anyway, this chapter got away of me a little bit, so I'll have to finish up on the next one, but I promise it'll be the last.

It’s when she’s away in Europe that Bellamy notices just how much he’s been following through with her father’s request. Jake Griffin, he knew now, having followed the girl over to the cemetery once and stood nearby as she talked to her father. Bellamy can say it started out as a favor, but these days it’s become more of a habit, an intrinsic part of what he does to just be near Clarke, it’s like she calls to him even when she’s not in whaling. Has he read about imprinting on someone anywhere?

He knows her now, she’s taking an art history class he signed up for, that’s how he knows her name. They don’t talk too much, she’s a guarded person, Bellamy’s quite private himself, it’ not like he goes around telling people he can turn into your friendly neighborhood black cat, nor that he spends quite a lot of time in feline form. He still doesn’t spend nearly as much time as Octavia does as his animal counterpart.

Bellamy’s happy that Clarke can afford this trip, she’s even older than he was when he found out he didn’t just possess the ability to wield magic, but he could actually turn, and he still had been exposed to witchcraft and sorcery all his life. Finding out that shifters existed and he was one of them wasn’t that far of a stretch.  

From what her father had told him, she had no idea whatsoever she might have powers of some sort, let alone these sorts of creatures existed, and from the looks of it her mother had no real means of guiding her through this journey. Again, at first he tells himself he’s only so worried because he wonders what would have happened if the first time Octavia saw herself a small bird she hadn’t already seen him shift so many times, or grown up in the same world he did.

But the more time he spends around Clarke, the more he seems to notice himself gravitating towards her, so he’s also glad she takes this trip because it gives him time to put some things about his own life in perspective. Octavia’s just finished high school, and she wants to go to New Orleans for more than obvious reasons, but mostly because she’s sure there should be a huge gathering of magical beings for the summer solstice.

He remembers his mother building fire and throwing spell ingredients into the flames as he played his harmonica and O danced around, with pretty flowers in her hair. Maybe it’s nostalgia, or just that nothing’s particularly tying him to town, but he agrees to go down with her, and they make the trip in their animal skin, because they can move faster this way, seeing none of them has a car.

Two months in New Orleans is all it takes for him to meet his father, wish he hadn’t, take part in rituals he’d always known and some he’s only ever researched. Learn there’s more to the idea of sexual healing than just a lame catchy song, meet a family of vampires that made the skin at the back of his neck stand to attention and ultimately lose his sister.

It’s their second day in town when she meets Lincoln and it’s like nothing he’s seen before, if he can feel it he has no idea what’s actually happening to Octavia, but he knows that in that moment he stopped existing, and so did anyone else in the world, as the two souls called out to one another. There was no point fighting it, he knew not to deny something so powerful it overflowed beyond them.

So there’s the reason he’s back in town and having to search from somewhere to live, mostly because he knows Octavia will make her way back with her new husband soon enough, and the house belongs to her father anyway. Without Octavia acting as some sort of middle woman, Bellamy has to deal with the hoard of teenagers that are their usual go to clientele and it’s both good and bad, teenage girls feel even more inclined to spend money when he’s the face of the operations. There also the realization that though he’s not generally in a friendly mood, he can tell a lot of the boys still find him less intimidating than Octavia. That could be a blow to his ego, if he didn’t actually know his sister.

He finds a guy, Miller, he took some poli-sci classes with is looking for a roommate, and he gathers up his things, and the money he’s got set aside, and pays him about four months rent in advance. He’ll still have to go to the house to work, but it’s good to have his own space, if he can call it that, for the first time. Nathan is quiet and mostly keeps to himself, but he’s trustworthy and he’s got his head in the right place, they talk and play video games every now and then, but the best thing is that they stay out of each other’s way.

Bellamy isn’t sure how he knows, but it’s like something shifts when Clarke comes back to town, her energy is stronger less timid, but he resists the urge of just rushing over to the estate. Because he’s managed to keep away for two months, he can probably give her space now that she was obviously more confident in her sense of self and magic. He doesn’t know this girl, he has no real connection to her whatsoever, he’s been following her around over this half baked promise he made to her dad, and a sense of protection, but if she could protect herself on her own, there was really no need for him to keep things up.

It’s not his fault they end up sharing a class again, though he should have guessed she’d feel inclined to sign up to Celtic folklore after her trip. She remembers him, even though they hadn’t talked much last semester, and it’s different now, when he’s trying to actively give her space, and she seems to be the one drawn to him.

Then it happens again not long after that, much like it had last time, an ear piercing scream that claws him out of his own skin and rushing to the Griffin estate. But Clarke isn’t in her room when he comes to it, it’s in her atelier that he finds her, a canvas that she’s painted what looks like a simple but pretty flower crown in front of her.  

“It’s Finn.” She says sadly, the minute he steps into the room, as if she knows he’s there, and Bellamy figures she does, so he pads quietly over. “I don’t know how, or where, but…” He watches her set down her paintbrush and settle herself down onto a chair nearby. He jumps up onto the table next to her, making sure to not knock anything down, and she looks straight at him then. “You’re someone… I know that now, my watch, my phone, seeing you around campus… Who are you?”

He ponders for a minute before he jumps back down to the floor, and finally shifts back, taking note of her expression. She’s genuinely confused at first, how he’d expect, she frowns, then crosses her arms, arches an eyebrow and leans back against the table he had just been settled on.

“Okay, I can obviously see that you’re trying to figure out what to say, so… I figure I should take this time to explain it to you, before you hand me my ass for being a borderline creepy stalker.” He offers, and she seems to relax a bit, though her posture is still a bit defensive. “I’d been hearing you call for weeks before your father died, every time I shifted I ended up here, as if your crying put me in a trance, and I couldn’t quite piece it together… I’d guided ghosts into the afterlife before, and I’ve always been attuned to them, but here I was, night after night, and there was nothing. I stopped shifting, at least so I could try and figure it out, until the your father died… It was so loud, so strong, so powerful, my heart was pounding, ringing in my ears, and when I got here, he was outside, waiting. He told me about you, about the watch, told me how your mother wouldn’t know how to tell you about everything, asked me to keep an eye on you.”

“My dad asked you, a complete stranger to keep an eye on me?” She’s incredulous, but she’s unwrapped her arms and is pinching her lower lip a bit nervously as she eyes him in suspicion.

“I’m not sure he knew I was a shifter, I was in cat form, maybe he knew I was something, someone, and he figured I could offer some help being a magical creature myself, I don’t think he knew anyone else that was, that could guide you in a way. Which I did, once I’d figured out some things… I tried to, make friends with you last semester, but you weren’t exactly… Open to my attempts, I guess?”

“That wasn’t really a good time for me, no, sorry.” She replies, taking a deep breath. “Is this why I’ve been feeling drawn to you? I have, ever since I’ve gotten back, it’s like I can feel the magic waving off of you. Like it has its own tune as well.”

“Maybe it does? I don’t exactly know an absurd amount about what you’re able to do, there’s not much to go on, I don’t think there’s that many of you anymore.” Bellamy looks around and finally decides to sit down on the nice couch by one of the walls.

“I used to see more of you… As a cat, before.” It’s not a question, at least not openly, but it’s still like she’s fishing for an answer.

“I took a trip of my own while you were away, and I realized how much I was dedicating, even if actively meaning to, to keeping an eye on you. I guess because it still felt like you were fragile in a way, confused, and I knew you were, I didn’t leave you much to go on… But once there was some distance I could actually objectively look at it, and it felt weird keeping tabs on you when you had no idea. And when you came back you were so obviously stronger, more secure, it didn’t feel like I needed to make sure you were okay at all.”

“And you’re here now because of, well…” Clarke trails off, pointing at the picture, as she makes her way over to the couch with him. “This is all so… Weird, and awful. Knowing when people are dying, and ultimately when they die, feeling it inside you, clawing at your chest.”

“The first time I turned was sort of like that, in a way. It was very visceral, I did it out of grief.” He tells her, turning to watch her as he recounts the memory. She listens to him intently, and shares stories of her own, of her grandmother, and her father, her trip. Bellamy tells her about his mother as well, her spells, Octavia, and how she’s the most naturally gifted shifter he knows.

It’s natural for them to band together after that, things become less awkward now that he can actually talk to her as a human, instead of just influencing her life in ways she never agreed him to, however justified he might have been. She hangs out at his apartment a lot, and once a couple of her friends start coming around, Miller actually makes a point of being around them as well, and Bellamy can’t help but notice how his attention, however discreet it may be is often trained on the quietest of Clarke’s friend, Monty.

Miller doesn’t really have many friends, but he often invites someone he plucks out of a random class or so, just so it doesn’t look like he’s a complete hermit, but eventually he invites this transfer student, Lexa, and both him and Clarke know there’s something about her immediately. Both of them are suspicious at first, but she’s both guarded and aloof while managing to engage their friends in conversation and he can tell by the end of the night that Clarke’s veered into curiosity territory.

It upsets him, even if only for the fact that he’s been growing more attached to her with every passing day, showing her spells and spending time in her dad’s old study, peering over books. So the idea of spending less time with Clarke doesn’t really sit well with him, but he gives her space, and lets her come to him less, they still talk every day so he doesn’t feel like he has the right to complain to her that they don’t spend most of their free time together anymore. Obviously that means Bellamy will complain to anyone willing to listen, and most of their friends get tired of hearing him say her name.

Because of that it takes him a little more time to notice something is wrong, still he notices before anyone else, or at least before anyone says anything. He mentions it to Jasper first, but that proves itself to be a bad idea quickly, since Jasper can’t be considered a reliable observant person, and he’s more worried about his new crush these days than anything else. But when he brings it up with Monty he gets the confirmation he was looking for.

It’s nothing dramatic, nothing someone who might not pay close attention to Clarke would have noticed, but she looks a little less lively, more fatigued, like someone’s slowly sucking the brightness out of her. She’s usually more engaged in conversation, and classes, but she’s falling asleep during those, and spending less time with them, when Bellamy stops to think about it, the last time he saw her was in class.

Only when he talks to Lincoln does he finally get what’s going on, not that he has much piecing things together to do. When Bellamy mentions Lexa one night to him and Octavia, he immediately asks him to describe the girl, and that’s where he knows he should have trusted his first instinct, because Lincoln knows her, not only does he know her, but he warns them about her.

Lexa is a succubus, but she’s greedy, she doesn’t just feed, she likes feeling powerful, that’s why she chooses to pray on magical creatures, humans just don’t give her the same fix, but not all magical creatures heal the same way, particularly when they don’t know she’s been doing it to them. His mentor, Indra had been with her for a while, and the same had had happened to her.

Bellamy sees red. It takes nearly everything he has to finish dinner, and he only manages it because Octavia makes a point of telling him they’ll go confront the girl together, or at least tell Clarke. It helps that Lincoln offers to prepare something to heal Clarke, and he’s a lot more well versed in healing spells than Bellamy, so he really can’t argue with them, not that anyone can argue with Octavia.

He texts Clarke to ask her where she is, and sighs when she replies she’s at the girl’s house, but at least it’s closer to his apartment, here in the older part of town, and the three of them decide to make their way there. Bellamy sends her another text asking her to meet them upfront, that they need to talk, he hopes she’ll come out alone.

But he’s not in luck, as Lexa’s there waiting for them much the same, and her stance obviously changes when she meets Lincoln, her jaw tightens, eyes narrow, and then he turns back to Clarke with just a hint of sorrow in her eyes. He can feel the anger pursing through him again, and he’s pretty sure if he were to shift right now, he’d turn into a panther, and not a small domestic cat.

“Lincoln. I didn’t expect to see you here.” She’s the first one to speak, her voice cool and calculating as she eyes the three of them.

“No, I don’t suppose meeting the people you’ve hurt goes well with your preferred M.O. Does it?” It’s Octavia who speaks to her, Lincoln right behind her, as Bellamy reaches for Clarke’s arm, and puts some space between the two of them.

“Do you know?” He asks, first, because as much as he wants to protect Clarke, he has no right to come in and interfere in her life if she knows about it. “About her?”

“What is it that I’m supposed to know? Clarke asks in a hushed tone, she’s confused and looking up at him expectantly.

“Lexa’s a succubus. Lincoln knows her, she’s used one of his friends before, fed off her without her knowing, we think she’s doing that to you.” Bellamy reaches for her shoulder, eyes her carefully. “Did you know? Has she told you?”

“No, she hasn’t… What is… Why do you think she’s doing it to me?” She whispers in a mixture of hurt and anger, and Bellamy feels the energy buzzing off of him, he’s so mad he’s having to actively focus on not shifting, because his limbs are basically reverberating with the need to claw at this girl’s face for ever laying a finger on Clarke.

“Haven’t you notice something weird, Clarke? You’re obviously weaker, tired, you’ve been falling asleep in class, you spend most of your time with her, she’s drawn to your energy just like I am, but the difference it’s she’s actively harvesting it. Feeding off it, making you feel this way.”

“There should be a mark.” He hears Lincoln call out, and he’s not sure what Octavia’s done, but they haven’t heard the girl let out a peep since they’ve got there, and he knows his sister is much more natural at shifting than she is at hand magic, but it’s safe to assume she’s got a good silencing charm up her sleeve.

“Have you noticed anything?” Bellamy turns back to her and she immediately moves her eyes to where he’s settled down his hand, before she looks back up at him a bit alarmed, pushes away his hand, and tugs down her sweater so he can see it. He has to clutch his hands into fists, or else he’s going to punch someone or something. “That’s it. Get her out of here.” He growls, and he doesn’t think he’s ever sounded so angry, Clarke startles in front of him, but she’s still clutching at her sweater so hard her knuckles are turning white. “Come on Clarke, I’m taking you home.”

“No.” She turns to him simply, still barely loud enough for him to hear, but it’s a barely contained storm, and he looks down at her searching for an answer. “Can you cast a protection spell on your sister and her husband? Hold it for ten seconds, that’s all I need.” He’s barely processed her request, his rage still rushing through his ears, but she touches his face, and tethers him back to the earth, before she nods, and he gives her a sign.

He just watches what she does then, like she’s pulling this energy from deep within her, eyes focused on Lexa and grey instead of the usual blue he’s used to, and then it explodes. It’s muffled within his protection spell, but he can still feel it vibrating against it like a shield, and he watches Lexa fall to her knees, hands on her ears before it stops. He lifts the spell and moves his eyes back to Clarke.

“Since when have you known how to do that?” Bellamy asks, stunned.

“Since now? I guess I needed a reason to unlock it.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of build up into Clarke and Bellamy's relationship.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm planning on adding the chapters during the weekend, one tomorrow and one on Sunday. Please, feel free to scare me with delight with your comments, and come check me out on [tumblr.](http://thesongwithin.tumblr.com/)


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